For the Man Who Doesn’t Want to Wake Up Tomorrow (But Still Fucking Did)

Let’s not play pretend.

If you’re here reading this, chances are you didn’t want to wake up today. And not in the “ugh, Monday again” kind of way. I’m talking about the heavy-as-hell, soul-tired, staring-at-the-ceiling-asking-why-the-fuck-am-I-still-here kind of way.

And if that’s where you're at, then this one’s for you, brother.

This is for the man who didn’t get out of bed for himself — he got up for his kid. For his woman. For his dog. Or maybe just because his damn bladder said so. And now he's here, dragging his feet through another day he didn't ask for, wondering when it gets easier.

Spoiler alert: it might not get easier right away. But it does get different. And that difference starts with not checking the fuck out.

I know what it’s like to sit in that dark place. Not just visit it — live in it. Decorate it. Rearrange the furniture and call it home. I’ve had nights where the weight in my chest made it feel like breathing was just something I used to do. And you know what’s fucked up? I stayed anyway. Not because I wanted to. But because someone still needed me — even if I didn't think I was worth a damn.

And maybe that’s where you’re at. Still here for somebody else. Good. Hold on to that. Even if it's just your goldfish. Even if it's revenge on the asshole who stole your weed in '98. I don’t care what your reason is — if it’s keeping you here, it’s good enough for me.

And if you’re thinking, “Yeah but I’m a fucking mess,” well… welcome to the table. We all are. That’s the deal. You don’t have to be fixed to be worthy. You don’t have to be healed to be loved. You just have to stay.

At Fathership, we don’t hand out bullshit affirmations or tell you to “just think positive.” We know what it’s like to feel broken, furious, numb, or worse — to feel nothing at all. So if all you can do today is survive? That’s enough. If all you can do is not die? That’s a fucking victory.

You’re not weak. You’re not crazy. You’re not alone.

You’re still here. And that means something.

So breathe. Scream into the void. Message us. Punch a pillow. Cry in the shower. Or just sit in silence. But don’t go quiet forever. Don’t leave this world before you get to see what happens if you keep going.

You matter. Even when it doesn’t feel like it. Especially when it doesn’t feel like it.

And if nobody’s told you that today?

I just did.